Amore Ductus
by naranna29
Summary: Hermione couldn't help but bitterly chuckle and shed a single crystal tear. It was as if Draco had always known her blood was dirty. It was as if he called her a 'Mudblood' because he already knew she had blood cancer. It was like fate's irony: her blood was now dirty indeed. It was fucking dirty and it couldn't be cleaned.
1. Still a year

**PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOPLE! :D HEEEEEEEY :D well, here I am with a new story: "Amore Ductus"! I think it's going to be quite dramatic and full of angst, but I hope you like it anyway :) **

**UUh, yeah, right… I wanted to say that English is my second language, I actually come from Germany sooooooo… yeah :D If there are any mistakes, feel free to tell me per PM! :) **

**Enjoy your reading! **

**Amore Ductus **

**Chapter I:** **Still a year**

It was late in the evening when she entered the house. She was sopping wet from the stormy rain outside and she stank of hard alcohol. Her curls had lost their definition and her hair was dripping. Her face was completely smeared, a mixture between black mascara, raindrops and salty tears covering her fire-red cheeks.

Her situation made her realize she knew nothing. Nothing about school or real life; about love or hate. She was oblivious to everything, always had been. Alcohol made her see how her reality was: she was dying. Her body had been slowly degenerating for three years and she didn't even notice. She had been dying faster than anyone else and she hadn't even realized. She had happily lived her life without worrying too much about her health. But after having spent almost three hours at a pub, bitterly drinking alcohol until almost falling into unconsciousness, she was forced to see: she knew nothing and as bitter it sounded, she thought she did.

But she truly didn't. She was only twenty-nine and still hadn't experienced anything but a magical war. And a war only meant loss and pain. That was all her life and she had never done something about it before to make it better: she had never gone to a muggle discotheque until sunrise, never danced until her feet hurt; no, she had never had such fun. She had never travelled around the world. Never had been to all those places she wanted to be: Berlin, Paris, Barcelona, Napoli, Moscow, Prague, Oslo, Tokyo, New York. She had never kissed more than three men, never had known the difference between having sex and making love. She knew _nothing_.

She had been eight years old the last time she had thought of marrying or having kids. It was a sweet memory: She had imagined how her wedding dress would look like and she had fancied her perfect groom: the prince of her dreams. The charming prince that would take her hand and gently kiss her knuckles, asking for permission to have a dance. The charming prince that would put his sweet seed inside her little box and would wait up nine months until a beautiful baby came. A beautiful baby that would be her son or daughter. A beautiful baby that would definitely look like her.

She normally would have tenderly smiled at the thought. She would have even giggled and would have shared the thought with her current boyfriend. She would ask him if he thought he was the right one, if he was that charming prince she had always dreamt of. But she couldn't. She was in pain and the pain was too big: it wasn't that typical pain that made her whine because she felt some ridiculous 'stiches'. No, it was much worse. It was _awful_. It was _so_ awful she couldn't even define where it really hurt. It was spread all around her body and she really couldn't tell where it hurt most.

She thought her heart probably would. When such things happened, physical pain wasn't the main deal, but the psychical one: everything felt ten times heavier than normal. It was difficult to breathe. The air was stale and exhaustion was all she could breath in. All those were factors that made her cry. Not like a little baby, but like a grown up drunken woman: she bitterly cried, sunken in her psychical pain and only feeling a mental disorder, a bleeding heart and a broken soul.

She somehow managed to go up the stairs and open the door to the bathroom. She was feeling sick and desperately wanted to vomit. She wanted nothing but throw everything up that was running through her veins: wildest fury, deepest sadness, biggest fears and sweetest alcohol. She wanted that psychical pain to fade away and never come back, even though she perfectly knew it would. And she perfectly knew that once the pain was back she would end up drinking again until she felt the necessity to puke once more, only to feel release as she felt her problems vanish through her mouth, just like that moment.

A few minutes passed by and she was feeling better. Her dizziness was slowly vanishing and the floor was finally stable, allowing her to walk normally. She now had the chance to undress herself and have a hot shower, she had to get rid of that powerful smell of alcohol before Draco came home and noticed. She looked at the clock: 21:56h. She still had at least thirty minutes time.

The water was at a perfect temperature. It wasn't too hot or too cold. She closed her eyes: it was _relaxing_. It was the exact relax she needed after such events. She took the soap and started rubbing her skin. It smelled just like her, like African cinnamon and French vanilla. Such a sweet smell that reminded her how sweet she was. Or at least had _been_.

She went out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She took her wet clothes and tucked them into the laundry bag, hoping that that smell of alcohol wouldn't betray her by giving Draco a hint of what she had done: she loved him _so much_, she didn't want him to know. _Anything_. She didn't want him to know that she had taken a shower and vomited to feel better. She didn't want him to know that she had spent three hours at a pub full with drunken people just to quaff her sorrows away. And she certainly didn't want him to know what the doctor had said.

She took the papers the doctor had given her in her hands. She took in a deep breath and thought it was time to be brave. Yes, brave. She had to have a look at those papers to truly _confirm_ she really was sick, no matter how much it hurt _her_ to see. _She_ had to finally accept that she wasn't living a nightmare. _She_ had to see that _that_ was _real_. _She_ had to get over it and fight. _She_ had to do it. As long as _he_ reminded clueless, everything was fine.

There. Right at the top of the paper. Her name: Hermione Jane Granger. Her age: Twenty-nine years old. Her birth date: 19. September 1989. Her doctor: Dr. Nathaniel Goodwin. The doctor's specialization: oncology. Her case: Leukemia.

Hermione couldn't help but bitterly chuckle and shed a single crystal tear. It was as if Draco had always known her blood was dirty. It was as if he called her a 'Mudblood' because he already knew she had blood cancer. It was like fate's irony: her blood was now dirty _indeed_. It was fucking dirty and it couldn't be cleaned. There wasn't any cure in the wizarding or in the muggle world, not one. She was going to _die from dirty blood_ and it was going to be _soon_.

While Hermione was putting on her pajamas, she remembered she had suggested everything. She had asked the doctor to go through chemotherapy; she had said she was ready to see how her hair would fall and her skin pale. She had said she was ready to stand constant vomiting and constant fainting if that meant she was going to live at least twenty years more. She had even _begged_ the doctor to go through a therapy that would kill her rather than keep her alive, but that bastard had simply said 'no'. He had simply said it wasn't any worthy: she had almost run out of time and there wasn't anything to be done. "At the most still a year" had been his crude words.

Hermione suddenly heard the main door close and a constant stepping. Draco was at home, that meant she had to hurry and hide that document. She had to hide it somewhere he never looked. Her gaze immediately looked at the drawer of her night table: there was _nothing_ in it because she had never opened it, so he wouldn't look after it in there either.

She quickly tucked herself into bed and pretended to sleep. She kept her eyes shut and waited up until Draco kissed her on the cheek goodnight. Until he placed a kiss on her cheek and then on her sweet lips, arousing her lust to an unchecked passionate night. Yes, maybe that was all she needed for now…

The door opened and Hermione heard Draco whisper a lighting and a silencing charm, being extremely careful not to wake her. She let a few minutes pass by and felt him go under the covers, wrapping his right arm around her waist and placing a tender, long kiss on her cheek.

"Good night, my love. Have sweet dreams."

That had been everything. No kiss on the lips or passionate night. Only a good night wish and a blown out candle. And then just quiet.

Hermione deeply sighed and even sobbed. She needed him now more than ever, but she was afraid to burst out in tears by his gentle touch: She was sick, for fuck's sake! And _that_ would be one of the _last times_ she could spend the night with him. And the thought of never being with him again scared her to death.

She turned to see Draco's sleeping face. It was peaceful. He didn't frown like he normally did and he didn't have a severe facial expression he was forced to have because of the whole reunions at the ministry of magic. No, his appearance was rather a calm one: messy helium blond hair, slightly shut eyelids, ajar pale lips and completely relaxed jaw. That was the Draco she was used to truly love: Her calm and tender one. Her sleeping one.

Hermione couldn't help but caress his cheek softly as she started to silently cry. She remembered she only had a year time to be with him. Only 365 days. It was a too short period of time and she needed more. She _wanted_ more. She _deserved_ more. She had never been an egoistic girl in any kind of way; she had always tried to make others happy; she didn't deserve to die _just now_. And he didn't deserve to lose her in such a short period of time, either. It wasn't fair, but who said life was?

She thought she could maybe take him to the places _he_ wanted to be. Madrid, Warsaw, Istanbul, Buenos Aires, Mexico City. She could maybe fulfill his sexual wishes and also some of hers. She wanted to make everything special for him; she wanted him to enjoy. She wanted him to forget about every tiny sorrow and just know what life was. He, on the contrary to her, still had time. And she hoped he had much, much more than her. She hoped he could experience as much as he could, and she truly hoped he'd enjoy it.

She kept caressing him and didn't think about anything else. She just stared at her sleeping Draco and silently cried, waiting for the rest of the alcohol to have its effects and lead her to her deserved sleep. She waited for her ears to slightly bleep and for her eyelids to feel heavy also for her breathing to deepen and for her tears to dry.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Fairytales always related of a prince waking up early in the morning due to the soft rays of the sun. And so it was: The rays of the sun caressed Draco's eyes and forced them to open up. He smiled as he saw his beautiful girlfriend peacefully sleeping right in front of him. He could consider himself a lucky guy: he was a good-looking man and had a good job, a beautiful house and of course a beautiful girlfriend.

He leant in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He loved their taste: They were as sweet as sugar with a pinch of bitter chocolate and they were as soft as cotton. It was perfect. He really loved waking up everyday and kissing those lips and he really hoped he would be able to do it every day of his life.

He then started caressing her cheek while he thought about her. Yes. His Hermione had been with him for five years now, and he felt like he couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to propose right at that night. He wanted to take her for a romantic dinner at her favorite restaurant and gently talk to her, he wanted her to feel special. And then, he was going to surprise her by kneeling down and declaring his eternal love to her. She would have tears in her eyes and would say yes without thinking about it twice. Then they would kiss and hey would be spending the night making love. It would be like a perfect fairy tale. Ah, yes: a prince with his princess with a happy ending. He was such a lucky guy…! Life was definitely smiling at him, wasn't it?

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**So! First chapter up! :) Hope you guys liked it!**

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	2. Amen

**Awe, Gawds! It's been quite long since the last time I posted a chapter, hasn't it? :D Oops, sorry! I truly, truly, truly apologize! (School's been a bitch!) Sorry! (Also, sorry for making you cry back on the first chapter :D Hope it was worth the lecture, though.) **

**I wanted to say a big THANK YOU! For all your lovely reviews and for all those who have followed and favorite this story! THANK YOU VERY MUCH, GUYSSSSS! :) YOU ROCKKKKKK! :D **

**Sooooo, yeah :D I hope you like this one! **

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**ENJOY!**

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter II: Amen. **

Hermione woke up from a terrible nightmare: she dreamed of being persecuted by people who had her same disease. Those people looked very scary: their skin was pale, their heads were bald, their bodies were too skinny and their lips were cut. Their eyes didn't shine and their gazes didn't look in any direction; it was like seeing loads of dead people going after her. They all had their arms stretched, trying to reach her hands or legs, so that they could drag her to their side. They seemed to be furious about the fact she kept running and running away, desperately shouting she didn't belong to them. They said she was wrong and that she didn't have any time left and that she was going to die in a very short period of time. And what scared her the most: They said nobody would care.

Her breathing was completely out of control. She was panting so hard her lungs started to hurt. She had to cough repetitively and constantly swallow until she felt calm coming back to her. Her hands were all sweaty and she felt her arms and legs lightly tremble. Her head felt terribly heavy. Her brown eyes were looking all around the bedroom just to prove that she was alone in there, only to entirely be sure that it had only been a nightmare and that nobody had been persecuting her.

She ran a hand through her curls and sighed in frustration. It hadn't even been one entire day since the doctor told her she was sick and her mind was already trying to screw her. She shook her head as she thought she hated herself for knowing about her sickness. It was disgusting; it truly sucked.

Her head turned to Draco's bedside only to see rumpled sheets and a little piece of paper on his pillow. She quickly looked at the clock: 8:57h in the morning. Draco probably was on his way to the ministry. She sighed. He never woke her. She knew he always kissed her goodbye on the lips before leaving, but she was angry at herself for never noticing. She wanted to. Now more than ever. She _needed_ to feel his warm lips on hers. She _needed_ to feel his lips all over her body. She knew it was an egoistical thought. She knew. But she didn't care. She just wanted to forget about everything and just have a good time with him. Was that too much for her to ask?

"Please…"

She moaned at her current dissatisfaction as she thought of Draco. She desperately wanted to feel his hands on her body, caressing all of her curves. She wanted his hands to cup her breasts and his length to be inside of her. She wanted to only feel pleasure so that she could forget about her destiny at least for those couple of glorious hours she spent with him. But he wasn't there. And she didn't even know if it would be happening tonight. Maybe that little piece of paper would answer her question. She took it in her hands and started reading.

"_You looked too peaceful to wake up. I have a long reunion at the ministry, but I should be home around 19:00 pm. I want you to be ready by then, I'd like to take you out on a very special date. I love you. Draco."_

Hermione would have smiled if it hadn't been for sudden drops of blood falling on the piece of paper. She led her hand to her nose and squeezed it lightly. As she took her hand away to see, she saw the darkest red she had ever seen.

_It was her very muddy blood_.

She got up and ran to the bathroom as fast as she could. She looked at herself in the mirror, her mouth and chin covered by blood waterfalls, her eyes teary, her cheeks soaked. Her facial expression completely horrified.

Was that supposed to be her slow and painful death? Constant bleeding? Would that really be accompanying her until her last breath? It felt like the end. Hermione shook her head once, twice, three and four times while she was crying violently and praying to God or to whoever listening to her to make that hurtful bleeding stop.

_Pater noster, qui es in caelis,  
sanctificetur nomen tuum.  
Adveniat regnum tuum.  
Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra._

_One, two, three four seconds. The bleeding didn't stop._

"Please, oh God, please, make it stop!"

_Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie.  
Et dimitte nobis debita nostra,  
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.  
Et ne nos inducas in tentationem,  
sed libera nos a malo._

_Five, six, seven, eight, nine seconds. The sink was still filled with dark red blood drops._

Hermione´s skin was going all goose-pimply and pale. A shiver ran down her spine.

_Quia tuum est regnum et potestas__  
et gloria in saecula._

Hermione thought she was going to faint. She was seeing black spots and her head was feeling heavy. Her legs seemed to fail at holding the weigh of her body and her back couldn't stand straight anymore. She felt big pressure upon her shoulders that forced her to almost crouch. Her eyelids were tightly shut and her eyes refused to accept the light of the day.

"Stop… STOP!"

_Ten seconds. _

_The dripping finally ceased. _

She quickly turned the faucet on and started to clean her face with gelid water as soon as she reacted. She took a towel, dried herself and looked in the mirror again: She didn't see any blood, but something else. She saw a very known figure right behind her, a neutral expression on his face.

"I'm sorry I did this to you." The figure said.

Hermione's jaw dropped. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. No! That figure was definitely _not_ her father! He… he was _dead_! He had been dead for already two years! He just… he couldn't just stand behind her and… and…!

Wait. What? Did he just say…?

_I'm sorry I did this to you_.

Hermione froze as her eyes opened widely. Did that mean… he died from Leukemia? What? It couldn't be. The doctors had said they didn't know the cause of his death. He just couldn't have died from blood cancer. It didn't make any sense! She knew her father and she knew he would have known if he had been ill! And in case he had been, he would have told her something! Or at least, he would have told her mother! But he didn't say anything, so why did he apologize!? It didn't make sense, it just didn't!

Hermione slowly turned around to face him. But as her gaze tried to meet his, he had already vanished. Regardless, Hermione knew that hadn't been the last time she saw him. And she knew she would have the chance to ask him questions.

_**So be it. **_

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Ronald Weasley lit his fourth cigarette as he angrily stared at his Daily Prophet's collection. All front-page articles were about Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. There were pictures of them holding hands, hugging and even kissing. He felt nauseous. He hated Malfoy with his entire soul for stealing him his girl. And he hated Hermione Granger for not seeing she belonged to _him_.

He had thought many times of planning something to get rid of Malfoy. He really had. But he had done nothing. It wasn't because he was afraid of the consequences; he didn't fear going to Azkaban. He rather feared Hermione's reaction. He feared she would hate him forever. He feared she would never forgive him. He feared he would lose her, just like he did with their friendship years ago.

He pulled on his cigarette and sighed. He had not only lost Hermione but also everyone. Even Ginny. His own sister. Even though he didn't accept it had been his fault, he adjusted himself to reality: He hadn't done things right. That was what everybody said. But he just couldn't have seen it coming. The night had started so well…! He remembered he was at a party with some friends from Hogwarts. And if memory served him correctly, he remembered he had had too much to drink and Neville offered himself to take him home. And then there was a kind of a blackout. Next thing he knew was that Neville was dead on a hospital bed and that nobody dared talk to him anymore.

It was so unfair…! He didn't know what happened, he couldn't remember the important part of the event! But nobody believed him. No, of course not! They would know him as 'the one who killed innocent Neville' and they would curse him right behind his back.

He learned how to deal with it, though. He learned how to ignore such rude comments and insults; he had built a high wall to protect himself and be immune to all unfairness against him. But right now, he was planning to dig a hole for Hermione, so that she was able to go through that wall and love him forever. He only had to lead the way.

He looked at the whole Daily Prophet's collection once more and stared at Malfoy's pictures with disgust. He was going to take his muddy paws off Hermione.

"_Incendio!_"

And so his Daily Prophet´s collection was gone. Just like Draco Malfoy.

He had a last puff of his fourth cigarette and lit the fifth one with the newspaper's flames. A cigarette had never tasted so bitterly good.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

It was 18:45h and Draco had everything prepared: he had made a restaurant reservation at Hermione's favorite place '_La Romantica' _and had booked their favorite seats right on the restaurant's roof, which had a breathtaking view of London and the Thames.

He looked at himself in the mirror and checked his outfit for the thousandth time: black ironed trousers, white impeccable shirt and his lucky Slytherin ring. He looked at his platinum blonde hair: it was not too formal and not too messy, it was rather casual, just like she liked it. He smelled on his wrist so that his nose could detect his cologne: it was his usual fresh mint scent.

_Everything was perfect._

He put his right hand in his pocket to take out a little black box. He carefully opened it and softly smiled as he saw the content: Hermione's engaging ring. He was sure she would _love_ it.

Draco looked at the clock: it was 18:57h. Right, he had to get going and pick Hermione up. He couldn't wait to see her going down the stairs. She surely was dressed with a new beautiful and sexy dress. Her curls would be perfectly pinned and her make-up would just look lovely. She would smell like French vanilla and African cinnamon and her lips would taste like glory.

He imagined their date once more: they would eat, go for a walk and when the most beautiful view of London could be seen, he would kneel in front of her and would ask her to become his wife. She would say yes and they would kiss passionately. And the rest of the night would be full of tender love.

He stopped daydreaming and finally flooed home.

He stood right in front of the main stairs and couldn't help but feel astonished: There she was. Wearing a figure-hugging rose print black dress, it was a beautiful contrast to her creamy skin; her beautiful brown curls falling down her shoulders like wild golden waterfalls. Her face was perfectly decorated with a soft pink blush at his gray stare; her eyes were magically shining under the light of the candles. And her lips… Her lips were all natural, ready to kiss.

Hermione looked at him while going down the stairs and prayed to God for everything to be just fine. She wanted to forget about that nightmare, about that bleeding morning and above all about the presence of her dead father. She just wanted to enjoy the night and feel. She wanted to experience and also to make him feel special. For now, she would hide her depressive side and try to be her normal self.

Draco gently kissed her knuckles as she went down the last step and gave her a smile.

"You look beautiful, love." He whispered "I can't wait for tonight."

Hermione smiled at his last sentence. Maybe, only maybe, right after their date, Hermione would get to know the difference between having sex and making love.

_**So be it. **_

_**Amen. **_

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Chapter two is finally upppppp! Again, I'm so so so so so so so so SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry for making you waitttttttttt! As I said, school and ABOVE ALL EXAMS are fucking bitches :D hahah :D **

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**I LOVE YOUUUUUUU! :D **


	3. Let by Love

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter III: Led by Love. **

She couldn't believe it.

Draco Malfoy was kneeling down right in front of her.

"Draco… What…?"

"My sweet, sweet Hermione. My love, my everything. I've never felt anything like this before. It's strong and powerful, yet there are no other words to describe how I feel about you. Special is everything that comes to my mind. You are special. You make me smile when I'm sad. You make me think about little things that have an importance; about little things I wouldn't have even given a single thought before meeting you. Little things yet they're so big at the same time. Forgiveness. Second chances. Friendship. Love."

Draco took both of her hands and looked at her, his eyes shining with honest happiness.

"Love. I never believed love could exist, because I had never known what it was or what it felt like. I didn't know much about love before meeting you; my heart was cold and full of prejudices. Prejudices I don't even understand now. Blood? Blood is nothing. It's only a liquid that keeps us alive. There is no dirt or purity, and it definitely doesn't have any kind of influence on a person. Yet I thought it did, and I'm deeply sorry for that."

"Draco…"

"Shh, princess. Let me finish. I know how badly I treated you back at Hogwarts. I know I was a complete jerk to you and as I said, I deeply regret it."

Draco smiled melancholically.

"I remember our first meeting, two years after the war. It was at the National Library in wizard London, and I was looking for a certain book. Do you remember what the book was called?"

Hermione smiled.

"Once upon a Muggle."

"Exactly. And do you remember who wrote it?"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle.

"Me."

"Yes, you wrote it. And do you know why I wanted to read it?"

"That's something I've never understood at all."

"Well, then. I'll tell you. I wanted to know how it felt like to be a Muggle. I wanted to know how could I get rid of all my prejudices against blood, half bloods, muggle-borns and others. I was desperate to know because… because I changed. Your words during war made me change. Do you remember what you said?"

Hermione smiled sadly while quoting her own phrase.

"'You are a good person, I know you are. You just haven't had the chance to show'-"

"'-And I'd be entirely grateful to see the real you.' I was desperate to find myself. I was desperate to know what I really thought, what I really wanted and where I belonged. And back then at the National Library in wizard London, I met you, the author oh the book I was looking for. I felt the need to talk to you, but it was difficult after our past. So I needed something. An excuse, anything. Anything so that I could approach you. So seeing the book you held in your hands, I managed to make up an excuse as fast as I could and started talking to you. Your voice made me feel strange, and your eyes turned me completely crazy. I don't know what gave me the impulse to kiss you right there and then… And I don't know what gave you the impulse to kiss me back. But you did and so we started to get to know each other. And so I started to get to know my very own self. And now that I know who I am, what I want and where I belong… I ask you, Hermione…"

Hermione had tears in her eyes. She remembered every single detail, every single effort Draco had made to change. To change for the better. To change for making the best out of himself. She truly admired Draco for having done so well. Above all, she admired him for the effort he was doing by telling her this whole story. To admit in front of her how he had been in a past and how he was right now. She admired him because he had seen himself change. And she admired him because he accepted the fact he did. And not only accepted it, he liked it. He felt comfortable with his real self. And she loved him because of that. Because he accepted himself as a person and learned to accept the others as such. Because he had always known that was the best way to make her happy. And even though it had hurt at times, even though it wasn't easy… he made it. And so he made her love him as much as she could.

"…I ask you, Hermione Jane Granger… Will you marry me?"

She wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to be the happiest man alive. That was her most powerful wish. Her priority.

And so Hermione smiled and nodded without even thinking. Of course she wanted to marry him. Of course she wanted to spend her last year with him and with him only. Of course she wanted to spend the short rest of her life happy.

"Yes, Draco. I will."

She had never seen him smile like that. His face was so bright; his eyes sparkled with an intensity she couldn't really describe. And his smile… it was beautiful. His smile was everything she could've wished for.

He took the little black box out of his pocket and opened it.

"Draco, I… I don't have any words…"

Draco smiled again.

"There's an engraving."

_Amore Ductus_.

"Those are the words you need." Draco whispered.

Hermione thought about the engraving's meaning for two seconds and then she realized. Her smile grew wider and her eyes continued shedding happy tears.

"Led…"

"…By love."

"Draco… it's… it´s…"

"Beautiful, just like you. May I?"

"Please."

The ring was beautiful. White gold with a shiny diamond. Simple, yet special. Just like her.

Draco stood up and lifted Hermione with him. And looking deep inside her eyes, he leant in and kissed her passionately.

Oh, damned be her sweet lips. And oh damned be her talented tongue. Damned be that delicious taste of red wine, mixed up with his own taste of champagne.

His hands made their way to her hair and cheek, holding two of her curls and lightly pulling, while caressing her soft skin.

And again, oh, damned be her sweet lips. And oh damned be her talented tongue. Damned be that delicious taste of red wine, mixed up with his own taste of champagne.

Hermione couldn't help but shed a tear. She felt his warm love and couldn't help but love him back with the same intensity. That love was so big, so strong, so powerful… It was such a treasure, it was soul-filling.

She wanted that kiss to last forever, just like he did. She wanted his lips to cure her illness; she wanted to be with him and with him only. Forever… Not for only a year.

The kiss didn't stop; it grew more intense. Draco's breaths were becoming heavier by the second, and his tongue was becoming more and more demanding. Yet his hands were still there, caressing her gently, tenderly. With love.

"I love you, Draco." She whispered into the kiss.

"I love you too, Hermione." He whispered back.

Hermione didn't know how, but Draco had apparated them home. They were in their bedroom. It looked beautiful: petals of blue roses were all over the floor, only a few candles were lit so it could create a romantic atmosphere. The bed was covered with dark blue silky sheets and lord, it looked so comfortable.

Trading his hands down her back, her unzipped her dress so it could fall onto the floor.

And there she was. She had on his favorite lingerie. The black one, the one that made that stunning contrast with her skin color. The one that made complemented her cute light pink blush so deliciously.

"You are so beautiful."

Draco led her to bed and helped her lay on her back; never breaking those magical kisses. His body was onto hers, making light pressure to let her feel his need for her.

"Draco…" She moaned as she started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Shh…"

Draco started to kiss her neck and caress her flat belly. He wanted to go slowly, he wanted to make love to her… Sex would be for another occasion.

…At least, he could tell the difference.

**AAAAAALL RIGHT. I know it took me LITERALLY AGES to keep writing on this, but I really haven't had any time! Still, I hope you liked this one! Next one is going to be written M! Just so you know! :D**

**Review, please! It really means a lot to me! It's like a kind of fuel that inspires me to continue writing this story! Thanks for reading! **


	4. Close Your Eyes

**PLEASE REVIEW! :) - Thanks for reading! You're the best! :) **

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter IV:** **Close your eyes. **

Hermione felt safe. She felt embraced by Draco's arms. It was a kind of safety that made her feel how she felt at that moment. It was bizarre, but it felt good.

_Amore Ductus_.

_Led by Love_.

"Love…" She whispered.

Draco was gently biting her neck and massaging Hermione's breasts. Her hands started to play with his hair, as her mouth dropped open, just to let out some moans.

"Love…" Draco whispered.

His whisper had been so dark, yet so light. So deep. So… So different than hers. His whisper had been full; full of something she didn't know how to describe.

She moaned as Draco's hands unclasped her bra and started massaging her nipples. It felt godly.

…But she didn't close her eyes.

She never did.

She never could.

She had to be _aware_ of everything. She always wanted to see. She always wanted to see him entering her. She always wanted to see him with his eyes closed, thrusting into her, enjoying every second of it.

But she never closed her eyes. Ever.

Draco started kissing her breasts. A light frown and a loud moan escaped her mouth as he bit one of her nipples. His shirt already unbuttoned, her hands playing with his torso and shoulders, ready to take it off him.

Her eyes didn't close.

They couldn't close.

Hermione felt Draco´s hands taking off her panties. His fingers started to caress her clit softly as his mouth was kissing her belly.

"Draco…"

"Shh…"

His kisses were turning her crazy. Her legs were trembling and so was her jaw; her hands were running wild through his head and shoulders; her mouth couldn't close and her moans were becoming louder and louder.

But her eyes…

Those beautiful chocolate brown eyes…

Why didn't they close?

Hermione's breathing was heavy. Was _that_ love? Feel heavy and warm and safe? What was love? Love was something anyone could ever describe. It was different for every person. But every person said the same: "It's about warmth."

Warmth? Warmth!? She felt warm when she stood under the sun and she didn't feel any love. She felt warm when she stood under the hot water of a shower and she didn't feel any love!

She knew she loved Draco. God knows she did.

Just…

She didn't know how it felt at all.

She forgot.

She had been so focused on herself, on her disease… on her _muddy blood_, on her _blood cancer_… She had forgotten how to do it.

She had forgotten to love.

She knew she felt it. She knew that love was somewhere within her, she just didn't know where it was. She had looked over a thousand times in her heart and found Draco's name written on it. Yes, she knew she loved him. She knew there was _love_ for him, but not _the_ love she was searching for.

She imagined the other kind of love as something stronger. As something more… More intense.

She imagined something! But she didn't know how it was! It was paradoxical!

She knew how it felt to be loved. It felt safe. It felt good. It felt godly. Just like his kisses and caresses.

Draco stopped kissing her for a moment and went up to kiss her neck and whisper something into her ear.

"I love you so much."

His bright gray eyes were shining with force; they looked wild and soft at the same time. And that confused her.

"Draco…"

"Shh…"

"No… Wait. I…Draco, what are you feeling right now? I know it´s love, just… How would you describe it?"

Draco couldn't help but lightly chuckle.

"I can't describe it, my love. There are many things I feel when I close my eyes. They are feelings, sensations… These things just… They just _are_ there. What do _you_ feel?"

"Passion, pleasure, heating… I don't know at all."

Again, Draco chuckled and placed one of his hands gently on her chest.

"Close your eyes."

"I can't. I want to see what happens next."

Draco smiled and stood silent for some seconds, as if he was thinking about what he was going to say.

It took him a minute.

Hermione´s eyes had been starring at his face, as if searching for an answer.

Draco finally smiled softly and caressed her cheek.

"You will see what happens outside if you keep your eyes open, but you won't see what happens inside. Trust me, close your eyes. I'll close mine to feel with you."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Close your eyes."

Hermione took a deep breath and starting closing her eyes. She didn't see anything. It was all black.

But she started to hear something.

A beating.

Was that her heart?

No, it couldn't be. Hers was beating much faster. She felt it inside her chest. That calm beating just couldn't be hers.

That was _his_.

Hermione gasped.

"Shh… Keep your eyes closed. It's just me."

"Draco…"

"Shh… Just keep listening."

She started to hear something else a part from his heart-beatings. It was much louder than that, and it wasn't a defined sound at all. She couldn't really picture what it was.

It was constant, like it would never come to an end.

It was deep, very deep.

It was… It was…

…Airy.

Those were his breaths.

"Don't open your eyes."

His voice.

His deep voice.

His beautiful voice, the voice she liked so much.

She felt his chest lightly vibrate as he spoke. It felt ticklish, yet so calming. It was an overwhelming sensation.

It was like a symphony: his heart and his voice all together, composing a beautiful melody.

The Melody Of Draco Malfoy.

The melody of the man she loved.

Draco opened his eyes and saw Hermione with hers still closed. He leant in and kissed her tenderly on her ajar lips.

"Open your eyes."

And so she did. And so she saw Draco's soul.

Hermione felt an incredible explosion deep inside her chest. It was so powerful it took her breath away. It was so powerful her eyes started shedding tears, her eyes still closed. And it was so powerful she couldn't help but smile with truly honesty.

Her eyes shone now with the same intensity as his. Her heart was now feeling this loving warmth at last; her entire soul felt full.

She took Draco's head and leant him into her passionate kiss as her legs started pulling his trousers and pants off. Draco embraced her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

Their heart-beatings were now coordinated.

Beating at the same time.

Their breathings were heaviest.

Their eyelids were closed.

Their souls were connected.

"I love you."

And so, Draco penetrated her lovingly.

Hermione Granger finally remembered what it was like to make love. She could finally tell the difference.

After very long time, she could finally tell.

And all because she remembered to feel the enormous love she felt for him and him only.

He whispered something into her ear before reaching his climax.

"_Amore Ductus."_

And she whispered back.

"_Led by Love."_

**SOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHHA, CHAPTER 4! I'm such a badass. Hahahahah, just kidding :D Well, I hope you liked this one! Review please! Reviews truly make my day!**


	5. Hermione

**Leave a review, please! **

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter 5: Hermione**

The moon led the night and the sun led the morning. The love led the sleep, but only for Draco. Hermione was still awake, her head resting on his chest, hearing his slow breathing and his rhythmic heart beats.

Hermione started to think about everything and shed a single tear.

But it wasn't a crystal one.

It was red.

_You filthy little mudblood!_

Cancer was attacking her again.

Trying to be quick but silent, Hermione went to the bathroom and washed her face with cold water.

She couldn't really describe how she was feeling. She felt the water burning her face with every splash. She felt all her blood running through her veins. Quickly. As if it wanted to escape her body as fast as it could.

Her tongue started to taste the mud of her blood. Her nose started to smell it as well. Her eyes started to shed blood tears. Her heart was beating fast out of fear, and her legs started to tremble out of pain.

She prayed to God. She prayed to God to make it stop. She prayed to God to give her release. And oh, she prayed to God to let Draco keep sleeping.

_Just don't wake up_, she thought.

And he didn't.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione's leukemia decided to go to sleep for a while and let her be.

Hermione's mind didn't.

Hermione's mind decided to keep thinking about Draco and their future together.

"He doesn't deserve this, Hermione. He doesn't." Her mind said.

Hermione couldn't help but nod. She knew he didn't deserve to have a fiancée how was dying. He deserved someone better. Someone healthy. Someone… _pure_.

Because she was not. She was not pure, she was filthy.

Draco's voice echoed inside her head.

"_No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood_!"

Hermione didn't know why but she sadly smiled. He had been right. Her blood… was filthy. And it would stay that way until she died. And she knew it would be soon.

"You know you are going to die, Hermione. Stop this nonsense. He doesn't deserve this. You know he doesn't." Her mind spoke again.

Hermione nodded helpless.

"You know what you have to do."

Again, her helpless nodding.

She went up to their bed and looked at Draco's peaceful facial expression. She loved that sleeping Draco. That sleeping Draco she was going to kiss one last time.

She kissed him on the lips.

They tasted like French wine and expensive cigarettes. They tasted like him.

"You know what to do." Her mind said.

She looked at him one last time, trying to remember that peaceful face forever.

Indeed she knew.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

The rays of the sun woke Draco up by blinding him. And even though he hated to be awoken like that, he couldn't help but smile. He had declared his eternal love to Hermione, she had accepted and they had spent the night making love. Just like he had planned.

He took in a deep breath and chuckled with his tongue as he stretched himself. Aaah, the sweet feeling after a loving night, the special warmth running through his veins. Godly.

He started to open his eyes. The rays of the sun were still blinding him, so everything was blurry.

The first thing he recognized was the wall. Then the wardrobe. And then the bed.

Were his eyes fooling him?

Where was Hermione?

"Hermione?"

No answer. Draco frowned.

He went to the bathroom. Maybe she just didn´t hear him.

He imagined her in the bath, gently rubbing her skin to wash her body. A delicious image.

A luxurious smile crossed his face.

He gently opened the door.

His smile vanished.

She wasn't there.

He rubbed his face. That had to be a dream. A nightmare. She just couldn't be gone.

What about the kitchen? Maybe she was cooking something for breakfast.

Nothing.

The living room?

No.

The library?

She was not there.

He rubbed his face again.

"Alright. I'm going to go to bed and I'm going to _really_ wake up. And then Hermione will lay on chest while she's still sleeping."

And so he did. He went to bed, laid down and closed his eyes.

He opened them.

He didn´t see her.

But he saw a letter.

"_I love you so much I had to leave. You don't deserve this. It would kill you if you knew. And I don't want that. Please be happy. I love you and I always will, until the miserable rest of my days. Hermione."_

"What…?"

That's all that came for the moment. A simple 'what' full of confusion and hurt. _What_ did she just say?

'It would kill you if you knew.'

'Please be happy'?

'Until the miserable rest of my days'?

_What?_

Draco didn't understand. He was shaking his head as he held the note in his hands. He couldn't stop staring at that little phrase: "the miserable rest of my days". What did that mean?

He didn't understand. He wouldn't understand. He couldn't!

She was NOT gone.

"Hermione?"

No answer.

"Hermione."

Silence.

"Hermione!"

Nobody was to be heard.

"HERMIONE!"

He suddenly broke down in tears.

He didn't understand. He wouldn't understand. HE COULDN'T!

WHERE WAS HERMIONE GRANGER!?

WHERE WAS HIS FIANCEE?

She was NOT gone.

SHE WAS NOT GONE!

SHE WAS NOT!

"HERMIONEEEEEE!"

His face was soaked with salty, crystal tears.

He didn't want to understand. He wanted this to be a lie. He wanted this to be a nightmare.

He didn't want to face the truth.

'_Until the miserable rest of my days'._

Because it hurt.

He didn't want to understand yet he did.

His Hermione was gone.

And he didn't know if she would ever come back.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Harry Potter was running through the ministry to flee to Malfoy's.

He still couldn't believe his words.

"_Hermione's gone, Potter. I don't where she is. She left a note. I think she's in danger. Please help me."_

Draco Malfoy's voice had been desperate. It had been filled with a deep sadness, agony, angst and incomprehension. And knowing his best friend like he did, Harry didn't think about it twice before packing up his stuff and leave his office.

Hermione was gone.

And he and Draco had to find her.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Leave a review, it's kinda easy! Review - Go!**

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	6. I still remember

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**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter VI:** **I still remember**

It already had been two months.

Hermione knew where she was. Just, the others didn't.

She wouldn't say it was exactly nice to be there, but it wasn't horrific. And no, she didn't feel comfortable at all, but there was something that gave her the impulse to just be there.

To just _be_.

"Why did you apologize? I don't understand."

Silence filled the cemetery.

Hermione was standing right in front of a grave.

_To our beloved Dr. Granger._ _Beloved husband, beloved father, beloved friend_.

"The doctors said they didn't know the cause of your death. Yet leukemia is a very known illness, dad. I just don't believe they didn't know. It's impossible. They knew. They had to know you had leukemia. Just… Why didn't they say anything?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes before shedding any tear.

"Did you pay them to keep their mouths shut? Did you pay them to keep us, mom and me, clueless about your illness? Just so that we didn't have to worry? We _were_ already worried! You were almost dead, for lord's sake! I still remember your pale skin! I still remember your yellow eyes! I still remember your dry lips!"

And indeed she remembered. She still knew _everything_.

"I still remember how your lungs stopped breathing! I still remember how your heart stopped beating! I FUCKING STILL REMEMBER HOW YOU FUCKING CLOSED YOUR EYES FOR THE LAST TIME! I STILL REMEMBER YOUR DEAD BODY! I STILL REMEMBER, DAD, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, I STILL REMEMBER! SO FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DAD, WHY DID YOU NOT SAY ANYTHING, WHY DID YOU APOLOGIZE AT THE TIME YOU WERE DEAD AND I WAS ILL!? WHY DID YOU APOLOGIZE WHEN YOU ALREADY KNEW I WAS DYING!"

Hermione fell on her knees right in front of the grave. She started scratching with her nails and punching it until her fists didn't feel anything anymore. She then screamed and bitterly cried.

"I… I so… I hate you…"

She wondered if she had actually meant that. Did she hate him? She would have her reasons, of course. If he had said anything about his leukemia, Hermione would have gone to the doctor earlier. She would have found out earlier about her blood cancer so that she still had the chance to live.

The chance to live her life together with Draco.

The chance to marry him.

The chance to have a family with him.

The chance to get to know her kids.

The chance to be happy.

Did she really hate him? Now that he wasn't even there? Could she hate him? Was that possible?

She didn't know. She didn't want to know. She just wanted to leave.

To leave somewhere else than England.

Far, far away, somewhere where nobody knew her. Somewhere where she would swear to herself to not fall in love with any other man, sealing her eternal love to Draco with her entire heart and soul.

Somewhere where she could die in peace, without having anyone trying to give her solutions that did not have any kind of sense. The doctor had already said it: 'Maybe still a year.'

She knew she wanted to spend that last year with Draco. But she also knew she couldn't. He would end up knowing. Sooner or later, but he would. And he'd try to do everything to save her. And she knew one thing: If Draco couldn't save her he would die with her.

She couldn't help but think about Romeo and Juliet. She chuckled. There was a kind of a parallel to them. A muggle family versus a pureblooded one. Two lovers that were supposed to hate each other. Two lovers that ended up loving each other so much, they were ready to give up on life if something bad happened to one of them.

But Hermione didn't want Draco to die with her. She wanted him to live, to fall in love again, to enjoy life. And she knew he couldn't if she was with him. So she left. Because she loved him so much she had to let him live his life.

Hermione looked at the grave once more. If he had only said something… !If he only had…!

"I hope you know I won't ever be able to forgive you." She whispered.

And then she disappeared.

It had been the first time since Dr. Granger's death that Hermione didn't bring any flowers.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Draco felt lost and dizzy.

When had been the last time he'd slept?

It had already been two months.

Two sleepless months, searching for Hermione everywhere, trying to find her and bring her back home.

But she was nowhere to be found.

Hermione was just not there.

She had gone.

Right after having proposed to her.

He knew she loved him with her entire heart. He knew. And he knew she hadn't had any doubts while saying "yes I do". He knew she had loved him that night just as he had loved her. And he still felt that love.

But he didn't feel her.

He didn't see her.

She was not there!

She was gone.

"Where are you, Hermione?"

He didn't know. And deep inside him, he knew she didn't either.

He knew she had had her reasons for leaving. But he had always been bad at guessing. He was absolutely clueless. And he wanted to know. He wanted to know because he wanted to be with her. He wanted to hug her tightly, to kiss her passionately and tell her everything was okay.

He had always felt the need to protect her, and now he couldn't. And he blamed himself for that, even though he knew Hermione was a very self-confident and a strong woman, a woman who fought whenever she had to. But still. That need was there and it wouldn't go away.

Potter came again from the ministry. He came to see Draco everyday, just to check if they found anything else about Hermione's whereabouts. He was panting heavily from his running through the ministry, but he calmed down kind of quickly. He then took a seat and looked at Draco.

And so, their typical routine started again.

Draco didn't look at him. It was as if he even hadn't noticed his presence. His eyes were starring in the nothingness; a frown was drawn on his face. His breathing was calm, but Harry could have sworn he was hearing his heart beating very rapidly.

One more time he decided to wait and let Draco have the first word. He just didn't know what to say. Everything that came to his mind was about Hermione. He still couldn't believe it. She was gone. She left. She wasn't there! And not even Draco knew where she was!

Harry sighed as his eyes fell shut until Draco said something.

He waited for two minutes.

"Where is my Hermione, Potter? Where is she?"

He asked that question for the thousandth time.

Harry opened his eyes. His voice had been soft yet hurt. His appearance was calm, but his soul was furiously wild.

Draco looked at him once. And his eyes scared Harry again.

They were red. Filled with tears that were ready to shed. Filled with fire ready to sparkle. Filled with desperation for Hermione. Filled with passion for her to come back.

And then he looked away, starring back to his now beloved nothingness.

Their exact same conversation found its beginning once more.

"I don't know."

Draco chuckled humorlessly.

"Neither do I."

"Where could she be?"

"Everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere. In the muggle world, in the magic world… In London, in Paris, in Barcelona, in Berlin…! Everywhere."

But then.

Draco had spoken much more than other times. He had given more hints. He had spoken about cities. Hermione could be in any of them!

Harry spoke quickly. He couldn't forget what he had in his mind.

"Has she ever fancied being in one of these cities in particular?"

Draco frowned and started to think.

"She… I think she… She wrote about it. In her personal diary."

"And where is it?"

"Inside the night table, but it's been really long since she last wrote."

"It doesn't matter. I'll have a look."

Draco sighed and thought about his Hermione one more time.

He could feel her love right now. It was like a kind of connection. It felt good, but it hurt so much without her by his side.

He missed her so much.

"Where are you, my Hermione?"

And with that he felt asleep.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**Chapter 6 updated! Yay!**

**Review, please! It's kinda easy, you know: Review – GO!**


	7. Hello my Draco

**Please Review! :)**

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter VII: Hello, my Draco.**

Harry Potter couldn't believe what he had just found.

What the hell was that? A letter…?

From the hospital?

Harry hurried to open the envelope.

The letter was full with some strange red dirt. It didn't smell any well either.

As Harry Potter started to read he got tears in his emerald eyes.

Name: Hermione Jane Granger. Her age: Twenty-nine years old. Her birth date: 19. September 1989. Her Doctor: Nathaniel Godwin. The doctor's specialization: oncology.

_What?_

Harry's hands started to tremble.

His breathing was becoming heavy.

His heart was beating incredibly fast.

Her case…

The first tear had been shed.

A desperate frown had been drawn on his face.

He couldn't believe it.

Her case…

…_Leukemia_.

_Blood cancer._

There was something written in the description.

"_Blood cancer's course: advanced, not to be cured."_

"No…"

Harry's jaw dropped open.

His emerald eyes were now wide opened, looking everywhere, as if he was searching for some kind of answer.

But that little phrase echoed his mind.

"_Not to be saved_".

That was the answer. That was the truth. That was reality.

And he didn't like it.

Harry shut his eyes as his grip tensed.

He shed another tear. It fell onto his right hand.

He opened his eyes again. And then he saw it.

It was written with her own blood. The tremble she must had felt by then was remarkable. She had been scared, angry, anxious, completely broken.

Harry felt scared.

It was written with _her own blood._

_Mudblood. _

He felt a shriek running through his spine.

_Mudblood_.

He looked at the letter's date.

November 19.

2013.

Two months ago.

_Blood cancer's course: advanced, not to be cured._

_Mudblood._

Hermione was dying faster and faster and faster.

Her life could be over any day.

And maybe they wouldn't find her.

Or maybe she was already dead.

"No." He said to himself. "I still feel her. She's alive."

"Who's alive?"

Draco had woken up.

"Malfoy. We have to talk."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Ronald Weasley had been paying very close attention to The Prophet those last two months.

"_Hermione Granger, missing."_

"_Where is our beloved Muggleborn?_"

"_Desperation at Malfoy's: Where is my Hermione?"_

He couldn't tell if the smoke of his cigarette already had achieved his lungs; he was way too concentrated on Hermione Granger.

"Missing." He said. "_Missing_. I knew that bastard wouldn't take care of her."

He felt his throat sweetly burn as the smoke threatened to escape through his mouth.

He finally let it flee.

"And I knew that whore would end up in the middle of nowhere. Dying from Leukemia, probably."

Ron stood up and went to his room. He took a book. Filled with incomprehensive sentences and with very ancient pictures.

Fourth year.

The Masquerade.

Hermione Granger with her beautiful pink dress.

"Aw." He bitterly said. "Dying from cancer, dear? Just like dear daddy did?"

Still with the picture in his hand, Ron went up to his living room and took his wand.

"But he didn't say anything, did he?"

Ron evilly smirked.

"It's called 'Imperio', 'Mione."

Ron lit another cigarette.

"He knew you were ill. He wanted to tell you. I didn't let him. And I didn't let the doctors."

He started to rip Hermione's picture.

"You just had to choose Malfoy over me, hadn't you? Even though you knew I loved you like a mad man. Even though you knew I loved you so much it hurt. You didn't care. You made a mistake."

Ron chuckled humorlessly.

"And people make mistakes. But you know, you have to pay a certain prize to make them. All I asked for was your love. All I asked for was _you_. And yet you rejected me."

The picture was ripped in two parts.

"So you had to pay the prize. _My_ prize."

_INCENDIO!_

"I GAVE YOU SO MANY CHANCES, HERMIONE! I WAITED FOR SO LONG! AND YOU NEVER CAME; YOU NEVER WANTED TO BELONG TO ME!"

Hermione's picture was burning up in the fireplace.

"Dear Hermione Granger, you have cancer. Dear Hermione Granger, you _are_ a mudblood. And dear Hermione Granger… I'm your murderer."

The last thing Ron saw before the picture had burnt completely up was her sweet smile.

"If I couldn't have your heart and soul, I'd have your _life_."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione knew where she was. Just, the others didn't.

It was rather warm for January. 20°C. That warmth came from the sea, the blue sky and the comfortable light of the sun.

People were so friendly. It was like a dream. They smiled and they laughed while they talked with one another in that beautiful singing language: Italian.

She thought it was beautiful. Draco would have loved it.

But he was not there with her.

Because she had left.

For his own good.

Because she was dying, and she loved him so much, he didn't want him to know.

"The food was excellent, _grazie mile_." She smiled.

The waiter smiled back at her, but weirdly starred at her plate: it still was full of food. It almost looked untouched.

The waiter looked back at her: He had never seen such a beautiful woman, yet so pale and skinny.

She was looking… almost ill.

But only 'almost', he thought.

_Almost_.

Hermione politely coughed, trying to make him understand that it was rude to stare at people.

He understood and went, leaving Hermione deep in her thoughts.

She took a pen and started to write a poem on a piece of paper.

_Hello little angel,  
I have a question for you.  
Maybe I'll never know the answer,  
but do you think I am a fool? _

_Hello golden heart,  
how are your beats?  
Is my silver dragon  
somewhere in between? _

_Hello dear feelings,  
are you still hurt today?  
How much do we miss him  
since I went away? _

_Hello dear life,  
when are you going from me?  
Do I still have time  
to go back and marry him? _

She looked at her engaging ring and remembered him kneeling down in front of her, declaring his eternal love.

_Amore Ductus._

_Led by love_.

Hermione felt tears forming in her eyes.

She missed him so much.

She started to cry.

_Hello my Draco,  
I love you so much.  
Will you send me a kiss?  
I wish for a passionate one…_

She cried harder.

"A passion full of love,  
so much passion in that kiss.  
Before I lay down,  
and forever go to sleep."

Hermione's leukemia attacked her again.

She fainted in the middle of the restaurant, painting the floor with her muddy blood.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**YYYYYYYYESSSSSSS!** **CHAPTER 7 UPDATED! WOHO!**

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	8. Dead and Alive

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**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter VIII:** **Dead and alive. **

Hermione once wondered how it felt like to die.

She didn't remember when had it been. In her innocent early years. In a time in which she wasn't afraid of nothing and everything.

Unanswered questions left her wondering for a long time.

And now she knew.

Did it hurt? Was it heavy? Did a person feel hurtful stitches all around the body? How was it to feel the heartbeats to stop? How was it to take one last breath?

How was it to close the eyes for the very last time, knowing there wouldn't be any tomorrow?

She had always been curious, but now she knew how it felt like to be in between.

_To be alive and dead at the very same time. _

It felt free. It was a light feeling; it was like floating in the air. It was like being embraced by the universe. It was like being caressed by planets and stars.

It was like living in her most treasured phantasy.

Her blood was renewed; her eyes won their shine again. Her heart didn't beat; yet it still was full of feelings and love. Her brain didn't work anymore, but she could still think and dream.

Draco was there. He smiled and ran towards her to hug and kiss her passionately, just like she had wished moments ago.

Death was like her most wonderful solution to all her problems.

Hermione once wondered how it felt like to be revived.

She didn't remember when had it been.

And she didn't want to remember.

She just wanted to know how it felt.

Unfortunately, now she knew.

Did it feel good? How was it to breathe again? How was it to hear the pulse of the heart starting from beat number one? How was it to feel the light vibration of breathing after having been dead?

Did it feel like a miracle?

She had always been curious, but now she knew how it felt like to be revived.

Contrary to all legends, it hurt. It hurt badly: it was like pulling something down someone's throat, forcing him to swallow it down. It felt like getting a knife stabbed through the chest, trying to revive the heart.

And opening the eyes…

That was what hurt most.

All planets, stars and stellar gases were gone, an unimaginable beauty. The warmth of universe's embrace vanished right at the moment she came back to life.

And she was forced to face reality again.

And her reality was leukemia.

Blood cancer.

Her blood was muddy.

_And Draco was not there. _

And then she started to actually see.

She was in Italy, laying on a hospital bed, a doctor standing right in front of her; his facial expression completely worried.

Hermione couldn't help but bitterly chuckle. He wasn't going to tell her anything new: she had blood cancer, and it was not to be cured.

Just…

She hated to be reminded.

Not to be reminded of her cancer _per se_.

But to be reminded of what she had done.

She still was engaged to a man she left behind for their own good.

She still was engaged to a man she madly loved but wasn't able to marry.

She still was engaged to a man she probably wouldn't ever see again.

Hermione started crying.

If her biggest problem was her life, and her life was without Draco…

…Then please…

_Let her die again. _

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

It took Harry Potter by surprise.

Draco had pinned him to the wall and was being very aggressive.

"YOU FUCKING KNEW IT! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM ME!?"

"What?!"

"YOU FUCKING KNEW SHE WAS ILL, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, POTTER! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!?"

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT!"

Draco slapped him hard across his face.

"DON'T YOU LIE TO ME! WHY!? WHY DID YOU HIDE IT FROM ME!? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME WHEN I STILL HAD TIME TO DO SOMETHING!?"

"DO WHAT, MALFOY, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! DO WHAT!"

"SAVE HER LIFE YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"

"TELL ME FUCKING HOW YOU MORONIC BASTARD! HAVEN'T YOU SEEN THE FUCKING PAPER!? HER FUCKING DISEASE IS TOO ADVANCED TO EVEN BE CURED! EVEN IF YOU TRIED YOUR LUCK AND TRIED TO GO AND GET HER, YOU COULDN'T EVEN HAVE SAVED HER LIFE!"

Draco let him suddenly fall as he cracked down and started crying like a mad man. Lying on the floor, punching it, wondering in desperate screams why he hadn't noticed anything before.

Harry tried to put a hand on his shoulder and help him up, but he didn't let him; he shoved him off. He didn't want anybody to touch him, but his Hermione.

"Hasn't this been enough? HASN'T THIS BEEN FUCKING ENOUGH!?"

"Malfoy, calm down."

"NO! I'M NOT GOING TO CALM FUCKING DOWN, POTTER! SHE'S BEEN GONE FOR TWO FUCKING MONTHS NOW, POTTER! SHE'S BEEN GONE AND SHE'S BEEN DYING AND KEEPS AT IT! SHE KEEPS LOSING LIFE, MORE AND MORE WITH EVERY SINGLE SECOND PASSING AND YOU FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!?"

"AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU ACTUALLY EXPECT ME TO DO, MALFOY? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FUCKING SAY!"

"NOTHING! BECAUSE IT'S NOT YOUR WIFE, IT'S MINE!"

"HERMIONE WAS LIKE MY SISTER!"

Draco punched him in the face so hard Harry started to bleed through his mouth.

"Don't. You. Say. She. _WAS._ SHE'S FUCKING ALIVE!"

Harry looked at him.

Draco looked different at once. It was as if he had suddenly become some new strange strength that helped him to go on.

Draco closed his eyes, shed a tear and started shaking his head.

"She's not dead. I know it. And since you won't even move your sorry ass to do something useful, I'm going to fucking do it. Pass me the fucking papers. I'm going to find her."

"Wh-"

"-Two months have been long enough, Potter."

"Don't you think I know?"

"We said we'd do something, we haven't done absolutely _anything_. And I'm done with that. I'm going. Now."

Harry sighed.

"And where are you going to search, Malfoy? You don't even have a clue-"

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. He then glared at him and started spatting at him.

"Do me a favor and shut your fucking mouth, Potter. I don't know where she is, but I know a lot of places where she sure could be."

"You don't even know where to start searching, Malfoy. You're being ridiculous."

"At least I'm doing something."

"Something _useless_. As I said, you don't even know where to start."

"And that's where you're wrong, Potter: I know where to start. The fact that she might or might _not_ be there is up to Hermione's fate and mine. I know I won't find her easily. I know I'm going to be completely desperate to know where she is. But I know I'll finally find her somewhere out there. I know it."

Harry smiled and smirked at him sympathetically.

"Malfoy… You're fucking insane."

For the first time in two months, he smirked back. His smirk full of hope and self-confidence.

"I know, Potter. I know."

Draco dried the rest of his tears on his cheeks and looked at his engagement ring.

"I know this union is strong enough to let me find you, my love. I won't let you die."

Draco took a deep breath in before shaking his wand to apparate.

"At least… not alone."

From one second to the other, Draco Malfoy had left England to apparate himself to Spain.

Barcelona was waiting for him with arms wide opened.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**WOHO, CHAPTER 8!**

**Review, it's kinda easy! REVIEW&GO! (Ps.: 10 would be nice ;)) **

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	9. Please

**REVIEW PLEASE! :) **

**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter XI:** **Please**.

It had been two weeks.

A doctor would normally wait at least three months until he saw stability on the patient.

But he didn't wait that much.

Hermione Granger had very advanced convincing skills.

It hadn't been difficult for Hermione to convince the doctors to let her go out of the hospital so early. She had avoided all those skeptical Italian gazes with a fake smile, and told them she had already gotten over her depression.

Lies, lies, lies.

She was completely broken.

But she didn't want to be kept in such a jail.

Not anymore.

She wanted to be free.

Free in the prison of life.

Or at least, try.

She got back to that beautiful abandoned Italian house and went straight to the bedroom. Gods, she was tired. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Sleep and forget.

Wake up and have Draco's arms around her naked body.

Wake up and be sane again.

She wanted to be free.

Free in the prison of life.

Or at least, try.

She got back to that beautiful abandoned Italian house and went straight to the bedroom.

She was tired.

All she wanted to do was to sleep. That was everything she could do at the moment.

Sleep.

Forget.

Both.

Sleep and forget.

Wake up and know that everything had just been a bitter nightmare, and that she had now the possibility to get pregnant and have a child with Draco.

The sweet bitterness of her smile was to be seen.

Pregnant?

With his child?

She would've noticed.

She knew she would've vomited after at least 3 weeks pregnancy. But she didn't. She kept fainting and fainting, but that was because of her leukemia.

She wasn't pregnant.

Her dream was broken. It had become a nightmare. Just like her reality.

She huffed.

How many mornings had she already woken up and was still ill?

How many mornings had she already woken up and checked if Draco was still there with her?

How many mornings had she called after him without getting any answer?

How many mornings did she have to realize she had left?

When had been the last time she didn't feel any stitches in the middle of her broken heart?

When had been the last time she had spent a whole day without crying?

When?

She didn't know.

She didn't remember.

She forgot.

Not because she just happened to accidentally forget, but because she had chosen to. Because that was the easy way she could choose every time she wanted to avoid her sadness and hurt.

Her infinite loneliness.

Her lonely infinity.

Her non-ending lie.

Her lying and constant pretending.

She would forget about her cancer. She would forget about her muddy blood. She would forget about her broken promises. She would forget about her dreams.

Hermione took in a deep breath and shut her eyes, forcing them to shed a tear.

She would forget about her present. She would forget where she was. She would forget what she was doing.

She just would forget everything.

Or at least, try.

Because she knew she had to face reality.

She couldn't forget if she didn't even remember.

She couldn't forget if she didn't even know.

And she had to know to be able to forget.

So she went to the bathroom.

She got undressed.

Slowly. Carefully.

Trying to hide from her very own self.

Hermione's face drew a desperate frown.

The mirror had been her worst enemy those days.

_Is that you?_

"No. This isn't me."

Her whisper was broken and filled with dark insecurity.

Just like her golden soul.

She starred at her body for minutes, not noticing her tears running down her cheeks.

"My veins are not black."

Black were they.

"I'm not that pale."

Dead pale was her skin.

"I'm not… I'm not… I swore I wouldn't be…"

But she was.

"…Anorexic."

Again, a broken whisper was to be heard.

Such broken whisper, such painful sobs.

"No…"

Her tiptoes lifted all her skinny body, letting it carelessly fall on her knees.

Her knees made her upper legs tremble.

Her trembling legs made her back surrender.

Her hands met the floor.

_That's you._

"No. This can't be me."

Her hands turned into angry fists.

_That's you._

"THIS CAN'T BE ME! I REFUSE! THAT'S NOT ME! THAT'S NOT ME, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, I'M NOT DYING I'M SANE! THAT´S NOT ME!"

_You're alone._

"NO!"

_You're alone. You chose to be._

"NO! NO! DRACO! DRACO, PLEASE! PLEASE! DRACO!"

Her screams filled the abandoned house.

But the abandoned house didn't fill her broken soul.

…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

It had been two weeks.

Draco had been everywhere.

_La Sagrada Familia._

_La Pedrera. _

_El Parc Güell. _

_Les Rambles. _

_La Barcelona moderna. _

_La Barcelona antiga. _

_La Barceloneta. _

_El Tibidabo. _

He hadn't had any luck.

His Hermione was not there.

He thought it was rather strange. Hermione would have loved that city: It was sunny and warm. People were funny and a bit loud, but funny nonetheless. The food was excellent. And the music was just Spanish.

But Hermione was not there.

He had seen a lot of girls. They all had had curly brown hair. Many of them had had nice bodies. Some of them had had beautiful facial features.

But not even one had had her angelical face.

Not even one had had her incredible figure.

Not even one had had her perfect chocolate curls.

Not a single one.

Draco shook his head.

His Hermione was not there.

He closed his eyes trying to hear her voice in his memories.

_Their third date. _

_London._

_Her sweetest voice was talking to him. _

"_You know what they say?"_

"_What?" _

"_They say Mon amour, j'aime la vie comme j'aime…"_

_Draco cut her French talking, leant in and ended her phrase with his passionate kiss. _

Draco couldn't help but lick his lips.

He missed her touch.

_So much. _

Draco opened his eyes.

It was time to leave Barcelona.

It was time to leave Spain.

Paris had to welcome him.

And please, please, please.

Please, Destiny.

Please, Star.

Please, God.

Please, Love.

Draco took in a deep breath.

"Let her be there too."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**YEEEEEESSSS! CHAPTER NINE UPDATED! KEEP REVIEWING! :) REVIEWS ARE LOOOOOOVEEEEE!**

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	10. Voices

**Well, first of all… Belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TWILIGHTLOVER5432176! This chapter goes to you :) **

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**Amore Ductus**

**Chapter X: Voices. **

"She has only four months left." Ron said. "I'll have to prepare myself."

Ronald Weasley was hiding inside his house. It was dark and lonely, isolated from all the other houses filled with neighbors that presumed to be 'oh so happy'.

Tsk.

Ridiculous.

Why didn't they understand what real happiness meant? Why couldn't they understand?

He remembered he tried to convince a good friend of his years ago.

"Happiness is bitterness." He darkly mumbled "You can only be happy if you have been through lots of shit."

He remembered his friend didn't agree with him at all.

"Happiness, joy and love? Don't make me laugh. That kind of happiness does not exist."

His friend told him it did.

"No, it does not. You cannot feel joy and love when you miss something."

His friend asked him what he missed.

Ron didn't cry or scream or feel hurt.

At least, not at first.

But then Hermione Granger came to his mind.

And it felt like a fucking kick in the stomach.

Fury ran through his veins, yet his outer appearance was extremely calm. His voice reduced into dangerous whispers and the blue of his eyes became as dangerous as a gelid iceberg.

One last glare and three last words.

"I miss _nothing._"

And then he killed him with a muggle gun.

His friend.

He went up to his working room and opened the shelf.

That very muggle gun was still there.

"And guess what." He whispered. "This gun still has plans."

His evil laughter filled the lonely house.

His evil laughter emptied his darken soul.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione finally decided to leave that horrific Italian house.

A house filled with nightmares. A house filled with blood and pain. A house filled with tears and screams.

She didn't want that. Not anymore.

So she decided to leave.

She decided to just take her bag and wand and leave.

Just…

She didn't exactly know where. She felt so lost. And she hated the feeling of being lost. She had always needed a North, a South, an East and a West.

And she knew she had found that in Draco.

But he wasn't there. And she was lost. _Completely_ lost.

She needed her North, her South, her East and West.

She stretched her left arm.

His West led her to humor. Countless hours of laughing.

She stretched her right arm.

His East led her to trust. Countless hours sharing secrets and confessing truths, countless hours crying together and leaning their heads on each other's shoulders. Countless hours saying: 'It'll be okay'.

Hermione's forehead drew a frown.

Hermione's lips drew a forced crying smile.

Hermione's eyes were forcefully shut.

What was 'okay'? What was 'okay' at the time? Her disease? Her psyche? Her situation? A left fiancée. A left love. A left silver Dragon.

Her abandoned Draco.

She bowed her head, her eyes closed, almost ready to shed tears.

His South led her to sexuality. Countless nights of molt passion, of passionate kisses and kissing desires. Countless hours of moaning, of feeling, of burning!

Countless nights!

And she understood his North on their very last night.

His North led her to Love.

To love, to forgiveness. To affection, to…

…_To warmth_.

A warmth she hadn't understood until she heard his heart beating, his lungs breathing and his voice vibrating. A warmth she hadn't understood until she knew she was making love and not having sex for the first time.

And it had been right after his proposal.

She looked at her engagement ring.

_Amore Ductus_.

And she remembered his voice.

"_Led by love."_

Hermione's lungs started to dryly pant.

Hermione's eyelashes started to become wet.

Hermione looked up to the sky as her eyes opened, followed by an explosion of crystal tears.

"DRACO!"

Her scream had hurt her lungs and dried her throat.

…_But that hadn't been enough._

She closed her eyes again and took in a deep breath.

"DRACO!"

And then…

"_Mon amour, j'aime la vie comme j'aime…"_

_Their first kiss. Their first passion._

Hermione fell on her knees, her head still leaning on the back of her neck.

…His voice.

"_Open your eyes."_

Hermione's eyes opened all of a sudden.

She couldn't lose anymore time.

"Paris."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Draco was desperate.

He didn't know where else to look for his Hermione.

_La Tour Eiffel_.

Nothing.

_L'arc du Triomph._

Nothing.

_La Cathédrale de Notredame._

Nothing.

_Le Louvre._

Nothing.

NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING!

Where was Hermione!?

_WHERE!_

He felt so frustrated. He felt as if someone had come inside his body and started squeezing everything from his insides. As if this someone tried to hurt him as badly as he could, trying to make him scream, fall on his knees in act of surrender.

"Not going to happen." He said to himself.

He started running as fast as he could. With no direction at all, with his eyes closed, forcefully shut.

He ran so incredibly fast.

He ran for so many minutes.

Until his legs started to tremble, his arms to faint and his breaths to exaggeratedly pant.

But that wasn't enough to stop him from screaming and crying.

Like a mad man. A mad man completely in love with a woman he didn't find. A mad man ready to give everything for that woman. His heart, his soul and even his life.

If only he knew about her whereabouts…

"HERMIONE! WHERE IS MY HERMIONE!?"

If only he knew…

He'd be surprised.

"HERMIONE! PLEASE, COME BACK! I NEED YOU! PLEASE! HERMIONE!"

If only he opened his eyes to see…

He'd be delighted.

"HERMIONE!"

"Draco."

_A miracle._

…_Her voice._

Draco opened his eyes.

"Hermione."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**Soooo, yaaay, chapter 10 finally updated! **

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